Page 42

CHAPTER 42

ZAIDEN

M y breathing finally started to steady as I stepped into the library with Ariella's small hand in mine. The purple-blue mark on her left cheek was already darkening beneath the fluorescent glare near the entrance.

The heavy wooden door swung shut behind us with a soft click, sealing out the chaotic world beyond. Students hunched over laptops or sprawled in armchairs, their faces illuminated by blue screen light. Whispered conversations and the occasional page turn punctuated the stillness.

We spotted Mila, Journey, and Sterling sitting at a square table tucked in the back of the library, surrounded by towering shelves of medical references no one had ever touched. It was the perfect place for secrets.

A student passed too close to our table, and Sterling fell silent mid-sentence. His easy smile remained fixed until the footsteps faded.

His gaze lifted to us as his smile vanished. He shoved out of his chair, the legs screeching against the floor. "Woah, what the fuck happened?" His voice, though hushed, carried enough force to make a nearby student glance our way.

Mila and Journey's eyes followed Sterling's line of sight, having a similar reaction.

"We're okay," Ariella said, stopping at the table. She flashed me a look.

My mouth went dry. "We were run off the road this morning."

Journey's hand flew to her throat. Sterling's water bottle thudded onto the table.

"On purpose?" Mila's voice dropped to a hiss, her face contorting into a scowl that transformed her features.

Ariella shrugged, but I caught the slight tremor in her shoulders.

"I don't know," I sighed, the throb of my bruised ribs pulsing with each breath. "It seemed intentional, but it could have been an accident." The memory flashed again—the swerve across the center line. "It's hard to say."

"Did you go to the hospital?" Journey leaned forward, concern etching her features.

Ariella shook her head, wincing as the movement aggravated her bruised cheek.

"No." I ran a hand through my hair. "We're both a little sore, but we're okay. Everyone should be extra vigilant of their surroundings right now." My tone made it clear this wasn't merely a suggestion.

Sterling, Journey, and Mila adjusted their seats as they slid back into them, and Ariella and I found a chair to slip into.

"So what are we doing here?" My fingers drummed against the polished wood.

The library's ventilation system clicked off, leaving us in sudden silence. Mila glanced over her shoulder before shifting in her chair, the scrape of wood against the floor unnaturally loud. She leaned forward on her elbows, close enough that I could smell her coffee-tinged breath.

"So last night after we got into the laptop," Mila started. "I started trying to put puzzle pieces together, and I did a little digging on the officer who was first to arrive at Kacie's accident." Her voice dropped so low I had to strain to hear. "He died three months after Kacie's accident."

My fingers froze mid-tap.

"Okay?" I finally managed, my throat suddenly dry as sand.

"The paper said it was an overdose, but it was considered a suspicious death."

"He was murdered?" Ariella's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, the word 'murdered' hanging in the air between us.

I caught Sterling's eye across the table. His jaw tightened.

"I couldn't find anything else on him after the initial article," Mila continued, leaning closer, "but what if it was the coach cleaning up his mess?"

I sank back in my chair, the wood creaking under my shifting weight. The table's worn surface blurred as my mind raced through implications.

If that was true, it didn't matter; everyone involved was dead.

"I can ask my brother to dig into it a little more," Mila started.

I shook my head. "No." My gaze lifted, meeting Mila's. "Coach Palmer is dead. He cut the brakes. The cop covered it up, and now they are both dead. They got their karma, and that's enough for me."

"Then who ran us off the road?"

"I think we are paranoid right now," I sighed, not entirely believing my own words. The memory of the truck veering toward us flashed behind my eyes—the way it had corrected course, aimed right for us. But none of it made sense. Who would want to hurt us?

"The driver was probably on his phone or something and swerved into our lane." My voice sounded hollow even to me.

I pressed my lips into a tight line as my gaze held Ariella's. Her eyes—always so expressive—searched mine for reassurance I wasn't sure I could honestly give.

"It's time for all of us to move on," I said finally, choosing the comfort of denial over the terror of truth. "Kacie's gone, and I have to believe she got her revenge."

Ariella leaned forward. "But what if it wasn't Coach?"

Sterling's head snapped up. "Who else would it be?" His voice had an edge I hadn't heard before. "Think about it. Who else had a reason to want Kacie dead?"

We all sat silently, the clock on the far wall ticking. Names and faces flickered through my mind—classmates, teachers, friends. With each mental image came the same question: Could they have done it?

Journey's pen tapped against her notebook. Once. Twice. Then stopped.

Mila cleared her throat. "No one," she finally said, but her voice wavered. "Everyone loved Kacie." She straightened her shoulders. "She wanted to stop Coach from what he'd been doing for years, and he wasn't willing to go out like that."

Ariella's brows pulled together as her gaze lifted to mine. "How did you get the videos of me and Coach?"

I scowled, thinking back to when I found the emails. "Someone sent them to me anonymously."

"When?"

I shrugged as I pursed my lips. "I don't know. They were sent to an email I almost never check." I flipped open my phone using my thumb to scroll through emails.

"Did the email say anything?"

I shook my head, my eyes locked on my phone as I continued to scroll. "No, just had the videos." I found the email and clicked on it. My eyes widened as I noticed the date and time. "It came in a few hours before Kacie's car accident."

"She knew he was coming after her," Ariella said.

Journey tucked her hair behind her ear. "That was all she sent you?"

"That was it." I traced the edge of my phone case.

"We should all dig through old emails." Ariella leaned forward, wincing as her bruised ribs protested the movement. Her voice took on the determined edge that had made her debate team captain three years running. "Make sure she didn't send anything else. Make sure you check your jun?—"

"No."

My voice cut through the air like a blade. Everyone froze. Journey's thumb hovered mid-search. Sterling's water bottle stopped halfway to his lips.

Four pairs of eyes narrowed on me, a synchronized reaction that would have been comical in any other circumstance.

The silence stretched. One second. Two. Three.

"This is over. Coach is gone, it's not like we need to collect evidence to get him fired or arrested. He's dead."

"But don't you want the truth exposed?" Journey asked.

I shook my head. "No. I don't want those videos getting out because that's what will happen if we expose everything."

Ariella sucked in a deep breath. "So it's over."

"Kacie wanted us all to know the truth," Journey said. "And we do, and I think Zaiden is right. Kacie's looking down, smiling, knowing she got her revenge and we're all okay."

A tear streamed down Ariella's cheek.

My back lifted off my chair, and I spun to her. My large hand wrapped around her knee, and I spun her toward me before pulling her closer so her knees slid between mine. "Kacie can finally rest in peace." I brushed my thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears.

Her eyes closed as she melted into my touch. "Okay."

"Shit," Sterling muttered, checking his watch. He stood abruptly, chair legs scraping. "I have five minutes to make it to the opposite end of campus before Professor Harmon locks me out." His movements became a blur, backpack grabbed, water bottle capped, notebook shoved inside.

"Yeah," Journey said, rising. "I have to go." She smoothed her skirt. "I'll text you later."

Mila glanced between them, then at her phone. "Shit," she echoed, but made no move to stand. "Time went by fast." She closed her laptop with a decisive click. "I gotta go too."

One by one, they peeled away from our circle. The library seemed enormous around us. Too quiet. Too empty.

"Come on," I said, grabbing Ariella's bag off the floor. "I'll walk you to class." We had plenty of time before our first classes. Maybe enough time to breathe, to process.

As we crossed the library threshold into the morning sunlight, a weight lifted from my chest. We knew who was responsible for my sister's death. We knew he had paid the ultimate price. Justice served cold but complete.

My hand slipped into Ariella's, her fingers cool against my palm. For the first time in months, I could imagine a future beyond grief, a chance to forgive myself for not being there when Kacie needed me.

Ariella's fingers tightened around mine, but her eyes remained fixed ahead. I knew she hadn't forgiven me yet.

But she would, in time.